


Intertwined

by ayenarc



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Comfort, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Oneshot, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Teasing, honestly this is just me dumping my emotions into writing bc i love the mcu so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-06 03:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14633163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayenarc/pseuds/ayenarc
Summary: "One way or another, our souls have been intertwined—passing glances, gentle touches, exchanged words. One way or another, I'll find my way back into your eyes."What you are about to read is a collection of oneshots revolving around the absolutely loveable characters of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I hope for this series to continue growing and adding chapters and other pairings (◕∇◕✿) I do prefer not to spoil with summaries hehe fingers crossed that the writing will set itself up. Enjoy!newest addition: “Remember Me” (Bucky Barnes/Reader)





	1. Rewrite the Stars (Loki/Reader)

“My lady is troubled.” The silken voice coaxed you from your blank staring. You blinked at the dark sky above the ever-rampant city of New York. Absently, your head turned to your right, and your gaze found his. Loki stood a few steps away with his hands clasped behind his back. _Was I too absent-minded to hear him coming?_ A quick scan of his form noted down the details of his black hair ( _tied back_ , you observed. _Looks like he took your advice_ ), black dress shirt, black slacks, and black shoes. The pale shade of his face was so startling that it was like his head floated above nothing—a Cheshire Cat without the usual unsettling grin.

“I’m not your lady.” The words held no aggression, but they did emerge out of habit. You turned away, too impassive to bark out any other quip asking whose funeral it was this time or how he would go to the Batcave or whether his undergarments were darkly colored as well. You huff a small breath at the last. _That one is definitely worth betting on._ He took his time striding to your side, sound muffled by the carpeted floors of the Tower. You felt his eyes drift over you before wandering across the enormous glass wall as if to find what had captured your interest so completely. Wisely keeping his lips sealed, he simply stood there with the offer for company but with the expectancy to be denied. You closed your eyes, inhaling a deep breath— _cold air, the faint scent of your perfume, and… pine?_ —before releasing it slowly. Eyelids fluttered open, and you were met with the same cityscape and the same empty sky. You caught your reflection on the glass, staring back with a blank expression. Plain blue shirt and plaid pyjamas hung loosely on your figure; your hair was down, and your feet were bare. His hardly noticeable reflection was a stark contrast to your own, and you released another amused huff at the thought.

There were no snide remarks, contrary to your expectations. Clearly, he had just left Tony’s party (you didn’t remember what it was for), but you couldn’t pin down exactly why he would. A tiny fluttering murmur wondered if he noticed your absence, but you dismissed it. This was Loki, after all. Plenty of opportunities to have fun were downstairs, yet here he was, standing in the dark living room with you. Loki was able to hold his tongue for a good six minutes and five seconds or so. Not that you were counting. “There are no stars over the city,” he began, then he paused for a moment. When you nodded slightly in agreement, he continued on. “Throughout my years, I had the privilege of travelling across the realms. Often, we had to rest with only the sky as our ceiling. But the stars never burned as brightly as they did above Asgard.” A hint of wistfulness entered his tone; you shifted your sight to his face on the glass. “They glowed like torchlights, and I could not number them. It was as if the galaxy drew close and closer upon the land.” The silence stretched while Loki reminisced his memories and you inwardly struggled to croak a reply.

“Could you… Could you show me?” As soon as the question left your mouth, you ducked your head in faint bashfulness. A breathy chuckle reached your ears, and you blushed deeper. Then a sweep of gold and green seized your attention. Your head snapped up. What once was a black sky now was filled with a universe beyond imagination. Golden lights pierced through the abyss with fire. The east drowned in subtle shades of turquoise, while the west was showered with red wine. Wisps of stardust, comet trails, and ice painted the canvas in boundless strokes. Your hands, desperate to draw closer to the wonder, splayed themselves upon the window.

Unbeknownst to you, Loki’s gaze had slid to your face, and he studied your expression: lips parted and eyebrows up in surprise; eyes dilated and reflecting the stars, holding its own galaxy in its depths. _You looked like a child_ , he scoffed inwardly, but he was unable to prevent warm affection from blooming. He stiffened with surprise at the realization of such, but you were too preoccupied admiring the stars to notice. The sparkling in your eyes, adding to his shock, were not entirely caused by the view. Instead, tears had started to brim.

“(Y/N)?” The word was gentle, more than he thought he was capable of. You did not face him, but you sniffed, wiped your eyes hastily, and grinned.

“I thought I had to die before I saw the stars so clearly again,” you managed to laugh out. He smirked.

“That could have been easily arranged as well, but could you imagine the explanations I would have to suffer through? Not worth our time,” he jested, eliciting a few more chuckles and a smiling sigh. You squinted out across the horizon.

“How do you do it so cleanly? I can’t make out a break between reality and magic at all!” Excitement rushed onto your appearance, and Loki took a moment to process his carefully controlled emotions. Pride for the compliment you sincerely and freely spoke. Affection for the childlike glee that surfaced. Happiness— _Triumph_ , he briskly corrected in vain—for being the reason you emerged from your prior blank shell. Yet he couldn’t explain why your slight silhouette against the city brought him near in spite of his inner voice telling him to return to the celebration. Loki pulled back from the musing, deciding to answer your question before he derailed any further.

“Practice.” With a dramatic flourish, floating animals began skipping, hopping, and running through the living room. Trails of daffodil smoke left their impressions in the vacant space. Your grin grew even wider when you recognized them, despite their discoloration into Loki’s favoured hues.

“You’ve been watching Harry Potter!”

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” spoke Loki, innocence gleaming a bit too brightly in his emerald eyes. You rolled your eyes but allowed the smile to stay in place as you delighted in the many creatures within your sight. A hawk soared above, brushing against the ceiling. Poised upon the couch was an elegant cat, ready to pounce at any moment. A mighty lion ambled towards the kitchen with an eagle following suit. There was a phoenix perched upon an enormous elephant.

“You totally based them off of the Avengers. I gotta say, I do agree with the assigned patronuses,” you proclaimed. Casting a curious look to the man beside you, you said, “Where’s yours?” Loki hummed.

“What do you think it should be,” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You pursed your lips in thought.

“Um, a fox could be just right, since you’re so mischievous and all, but it doesn’t capture your strength enough, I think.” You considered other options, then spoke again. “It might be typical, but I could see you having a wolf as your patronus.” You lifted your hand to count off on your fingers. “Strong, intelligent, cunning, mysterious. Works well, in my opinion.” The words flowed out, unable to be stopped, but you felt no embarrassment. It was the truth to you, so you conveyed it. He, on the other hand, seemed to freeze at this compliment. His stare bore an unreadable intensity. You glanced away, suddenly unsure of yourself.

Another breathy chuckle. “You are full of surprises, lady (Y/N),” murmured Loki. He heeded your comment and summoned a glowing wolf that was as tall as he was. Its eyes glistened with the purest jade against the fine, flaxen coat of fur. Power radiated from its form.

“And you continue to amaze me, _prince_ Loki,” you teased. His eyes flashed before darkening at the title; you didn’t see it. Reaching out, you sought to touch the beast. You were barely a few inches from its snout when Loki grasped your wrist gently but firmly.

“An illusion remains to be as it is. One touch, and it will shatter,” he warned. He dropped his hold on you, but the damage was done. Your heartbeat had quickened at the contact, causing your ears to thump with the racing pulse. To your relief, he didn’t seem to notice.

“T-that’s a real shame, then. I thought I could fly away into the sunset.” You packed as much sarcasm as you could in order to calm your blood.

“My brother handles the flying part, thank you,” he shot back with an equal amount. “I will also have you know that I have not watched the films that you spoke of. Rather, I read the books. Much better that way.” Another roll of your eyes.

“I won’t argue with that, but you can’t appreciate Neville’s glo-up on paper.”

“I beg your pardon?” Your giggles filled the air, and his bewildered expression made you laugh harder.

“Remind me to pull up some pictures from Google tomorrow.” You smiled at him cheekily. “What else can you show me?” He answered by unleashing his magic into numerous more apparitions, including puppies, panthers, and a random flower or two. The two of you eventually made your way onto the couch, resting against the soft throw pillows and exchanging banter.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on! I know you can make cat ears! Just for a few seconds-”

“No.” You continued on and on with shallow talk as the minutes lengthened into hours, and the digital clock shone with numbers too early (or was it late?) for wakefulness. He sat opposite to you, sitting properly with arms extended on the back of the couch, while you had your legs pulled up, hugging one of the pillows to your chest. A part of you wished you could beckon him over so that you could braid his locks, but it would probably not be welcomed. Another part of you was admiring his elegance, a true testament to his royal upbringing. The sharp angles of his cheeks, his jaw, and his collarbones stood out, shifting as his thin lips continued to narrate a tale. You swallowed hard and dismissed both thoughts quickly, not allowing another to wonder where in the _world_ these notions were coming from. In a brief lull of conversation, you hesitantly decided to speak up.

“Thanks for tonight, Loki,” you whispered, not daring to look at his face. Instead, you clutched the pillow tighter and fiddled with its ends.

“It’s my pleasure, (Y/N).” At your name, you peeked at him and smiled. He dove into another session of storytelling, and you allowed his illusions to chase away whatever emptiness had previously made its home. Now, you thought as he loosed a small laugh, Loki began inching his way into your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading (◡‿◡✿) Any feedback, whether its criticism, questions, suggestions, or praise, is greatly appreciated! Requests are open, although I will not be able to guarantee my posting of the writings.
> 
> ps in case you got curious, the description of the sky came from the actual image of Asgard's sky, which is gorgeous, by the way. And if the patronuses were not obvious enough, the hawk is clint, the cat is nat, the lion is thor, the eagle is steve, the phoenix is tony, and the elephant is bruce.
> 
> pps Tom Hiddleston wearing all black in Thor: Ragnarok killed me, hence his outfit here hehe


	2. Remember Me (Bucky Barnes/Reader)

It was dark. In your mind, you were calm. _Probably just dreaming or woke up in the middle of the night._ So you opened your eyes and blinked. Gone were the outlines of your bed, your curtains, your drawers, and your room; darkness was all you could see for miles. You blinked again to make sure your eyes _were_ open. Pebbles weighed down your stomach in anxiety. Hesitantly, you worked your teeth. Might as well test the theory that you were in a void, right?

“Echo!” The word did not echo. The pressing shadows engulfed each and every noise. Boulders must be rolling by now. You could definitely feel all of your limbs, which was a good sign. _What was that called? Ah, proprioception._ For good measure, you wiggled your body.

Taunts and mocking laughter sounded behind you, and instinctively, you spun towards it. As soon as you turned, the darkness was swept away by the incident unfolding in front of you. You were standing at the mouth of an alley with red brick walls; inside were young schoolboys forming a semicircle, their backs facing you. The clamor and the reason for them became clear. A ball of rage curled in your chest, and you released it in a quick breath.

“Hey!” It took a moment for you to register that the exclamation came from you and another second to realize that you weren’t the only one to shout it. You didn’t get the chance to move as another boy ran straight for the bullies and shoved them away. You unfroze at the scuffling and followed his lead, taking the distraction as the opportunity to skirt around them and find their target. It was no surprise when you saw the boy. He was a skinny little thing, all limbs and bones, but it wasn’t a terrified look etched on his face. No, it was desperate determination. Quickly, you dove forward and picked him up— _he was so light_ —and with muted horror, you realized that you were shorter than him. _What the hell?_ That wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right. You were about to speak when you realized that the rough-housing had ceased. The boy who fought them away was breathing hard, you noticed, but he hadn’t come over. You brought your attention back to the stunned boy.

“What’s your name?” You tried not to wince at the tinny voice that came out of you.

“S-Steven. Steven Rogers.” The poor thing was shaking like a leaf, causing you to grimace.

“Listen, Steve, I’m a shortie, too. I saw that look on your face, and it ain’t fear. You keep that up, you hear?” The scrawny boy swallowed hard and nodded, a new fire lighting his bright eyes. Satisfied, you moved your gaze over to the other boy. Your forehead creased to a frown. The set of his shoulders and the color of his eyes—the shifting blue of a stormy sea—were weirdly familiar. But like having the wrong key to the lock, you couldn’t pinpoint it.

“Thanks for helping…?” He spoke, tone rising up to ask for your name, so you gave it to them. He grinned a brilliant smile that lit up his entire face. He wiped his hands on his pants. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m-” Before he could finish, the scene disappeared in a click like a screen turning off, and you were back to square one. You twisted around, trying to find any light of any kind. There were none. Exhausted, bewildered, and utterly lost, you fell into a restless drift.

When your eyes reopened, you were lying on the floor with your head pillowed on something soft. Curiously, you gazed about. It was someone’s living room—no, it was _his_ living room. Somehow, you just knew. Another familiar thing itching at your memory. The couch was missing its cushions, so that was probably what was below your head. No sunlight filtered through the window. In fact, there was barely any light at all. Rolling marbles caught your eyes and ears, and you sat up. There they were, the two boys from the alleyway. You squinted at their huddled figures; they were definitely taller than during the last dream. A candle lay between them, casting shadows that danced on their profiles. They spoke in hushed tones, but you caught a few words: ‘fair’, ‘punk’, and ‘shaddup’. Without meaning to, you let out a rather obnoxious yawn. _Definitely still not an adult._ The dark-haired boy jumped at the sound, knocking their heads together.

“Ow!” Steve winced, rubbing the sore spot and glaring at his friend. The other refused to make eye contact, and you could almost swear that the tips of his ears were burning. “Sorry, (Y/N), we didn’t mean to wake you.” You simply nodded at the sincere apology, unsure of what to say.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, trying to get your bearings. There was a blanket thrown over you, and you pinched it. Everything felt so real it was unsettling. “What’s the time?” Not-Steve glanced up and squinted at the grandfather clock.

“Half-past twelve in the morning.” Your heart clenched. You knew him from somewhere; you could feel it, that familiarity flaring up. You’d know that voice, no matter how high or deep, how young or old. Failing to come up with an explanation, the sensation was driven away. Exhaling loudly, your hands automatically pushed the fabric aside and pressed themselves flat on the floor. Knees hit the cold wooden boards, and after a hasty crawl, you were within their reach. The corners of your mouth were tugged up in a childish grin.

“Were you two just bumping gums, or are you gonna tell me what you were talking about?” An impish smile formed on Steve’s face. His irises twinkled a mischievous blue.

“You see here, (Y/N), B-” And they were gone again, candles and marbles and cushions and all. The darkness didn’t claim you completely, however. Another scene rose up like a tidal wave and crashed into your system, jolting you into the next dream: a carnival. _Maybe this was the fair you heard them talking about._ The three of you were loitering beside a hotdog stand, waiting for your food. It was a loud ruckus; numerous booths and stations were set up, each having their own games and prizes. Men and women called out to the fairgoers: children darted here and forth, adults laughed and walked about, and couples giggled to each other. There were other teenagers as well. You cast yet another curious look at the pair of boys. They had grown once more, filling in their previously oversized clothes nicely and transitioning into real men. Since they had their backs to you, your time was occupied by scanning the area and marveling at the carnival games.

“Here ya go, (Y/N)!” Steve turned and enthusiastically handed you a hotdog. Thanking him with the same eagerness, you hastily took a large bite. If this was a dream, then it was a riot.

“This is _so_ good,” you said through a mouthful, and Brown Hair smirked; that little action flustered your thoughts of warm, soft lips and red apples, but you rid your mind of it immediately. You found yourselves wandering past the stands without a particular destination when a stuffed bear seemed to stick out for you. It wasn’t anything special, just a plain brown bear with fuzzy fur and little ears. Unintentionally, you ambled towards it unaware that the boys were still following you, of course.

“Step right up, fellas! Why don’t you win your little filly here a prize?” beckoned the game master, and Not-Steve looked over at Steve with a questioning gaze, who shrugged and put his hands up.

“You’re the one with a good arm, don’t look at me.” You were about to protest, to try to convince them not to waste their money and time, but he was set on it.

Three dollars later, the stuffed bear hung above your heads mockingly. Both you and Steve were stifling your giggles behind his back as the cans stayed upright yet again. You stopped when the stiff set of his shoulders bristled with embarrassment. With a sheepish smile, you laid your palms on his back. You felt his muscles contract in a sharp breath.

“It’s fine, B-” Suddenly, he disappeared from your touch. This time, you didn’t have to wait long, for there he was again.

The halls of the boxing gym were quiet, without even a footstep banging on the tiles. _Steve had already left_ , your mind supplied, _claiming he had somewhere to be_ . You didn’t believe him for a second, and you didn’t trust that knowing look in his eyes. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome was seated at the bench with you standing in between his legs. If you were awake, this would have been extremely inappropriate and awkward. That thought made you backtrack. A churning in your stomach caused you to clear your throat as you mentally amended the statement to ‘If it were someone else’. You shifted your attention back to unwrapping the gauze from his calloused hands. _This was routine,_ a voice at the back of your mind whispered. _He would unwrap your hands, and you would unwrap his._ It calmed your heart, and you continued on with your task.

“So, _champion_ , there’s no way to stop you both from enlisting?” The words were ripped out of your throat, and with it came the dawning realization that you weren’t in control this time.

“Why, is there a way to stop _you_ , doll?” Your skin warmed at the nickname. You felt your eyes roll at him.

“That’s why we’re training, mister.” A sigh from him. His right hand was finished, so you moved to continue the ministrations on his left.

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You could just stay here in New York.”

“I don’t like _that_.”

“You don’t have to,” he shot back at you, and your lips pursed to stop from smiling and to hold your tongue from releasing any simmering frustration at him. Did he not have faith in you?

“Do you not have faith in me?” The question seemed to rock him back, head snapping up for him to fully focus on you.

“No, (Y/N), that’s not what I meant. Not at all. I just,” He groaned in exasperation and used his free hand to wipe his face. “It’s just- Here, here you would be safe-”

“I don’t want ‘safe’! I want you!” The fierceness in your posture dimmed at the phrasing, the slip of the tongue. His eyes widened, face stilled in shock and lips parted. You stammered. “I-I mean I want to be with you! I mean, y’know, a-and Steve.” Your hands had long stopped removing the cloth, but he hadn’t let go. Neither had you. He’d fallen silent, dark eyes searching yours. Words of nobility, of honour, and of fighting the good fight stayed out of your reach. You didn’t dare speak again, opting to simply stare at your intertwined hands. The man shifted in his seat, adjusted his grip on you, and squeezed your hands. As gentle as he could, he brought your fingers up to his mouth and kissed them, just a bare brushing of his lips against your skin. The shiver it elicited was unwarranted but not unwelcome. Your mouth opened to say his name-

And he faded away, along with the words you couldn’t find.

For a brief moment, you were weightless, floating in the abyssal depths of your mind. Then you plummeted into the next.

“Stop! Please!” You recognized your voice. The image came slowly, but you caught sight of a man scampering away and _him_ standing there exactly like he did in your very first vision. “Just what _exactly_ do you think you’re doing, mister?” Another autopilot conversation.

“Nobody messes with my girl,” he growled and turned to face you. The veins on his neck pulsed wildly, and the tautness of his muscles were certainly not a good sign. At least he had the good grace to breath and calm down.

“Oh, it’s ‘my girl’, now?” He turned his head sideways to avoid your gaze. “When will you realize that I’m a grown woman? I am _not_ a damsel in distress!”

“I’m not about to sit back and do nothing while that sleazy-”

“You’re not listening to me! I don’t need you to pick a fight with every man I talk with-”

“(Y/N)-” You cut him off with a raised hand. Tiredness slumped on your shoulders.

“I don’t wanna argue about this anymore.” He blurred. Your ears rang. Your legs led you back into the dark.

The round tables and the glasses of water came into focus. Steve sat in front of you, looking bored and unamused and possibly dismayed. A bar, lots of girls, and plenty of dancing. This was _his_ turf. You took a sip from your own glass and tried to find the other man. You spotted him near the far right wall, standing in a sergeant’s uniform…

Next to a woman.

The coiling in your abdomen surprised you. _Why were you jealous?_ Then your brain conveniently began slipping in the context: the tension, the fight, and the ‘letting out steam’. This was the third stage. The glass in your grip slammed down on the table, hard enough that Steve’s expression changed to startled but curious. You had yet to look away from the brunet laughing at something she said, her hand smoothing down his sleeve, his trademark smirk in place-

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” His words fractured your reverie. You inhaled sharply and stood up.

“Dance with me, Rogers.” There was no room for refusal in your tone. He sighed and complied. You ended up just swaying with your hands held together like children. Admittedly, it placated your mood. Steve sighed again.

“I know about everything.” You tightened your hold but said nothing. “I see the way you look at the jerk, and in case you were worried, I don’t mind at all. Hell, I’d give my blessing to you two,” he continued. “But I also know that my best friends aren’t on speaking terms, and I need that to change now, please.” You glanced at his eyes then. He was sympathetic, but he was also hurt. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you both, but this is our last night together for probably a long, long time, and you two are spoiling it.” You snorted at that but kept your silence as agreement. You dared another peek at Brownie and was jolted by the fact that he was staring back. Forcefully shutting your eyes, you collected yourself.

“Let’s go talk.”

If the discussion was productive, you couldn’t know for sure. But judging by the curtains flapping in the wind from the open window, the streetlights glimmering with the faintest light, and his arms enveloped around your body, things went well.

“If this is my last memory of you, I would die a happy man.”

“Don’t you say that. You are _not_ gonna die.” His only response was the tightening of his hold. The two of you were perched upon his bed as one silhouette. You straddled his torso, ankles crossed behind him. He supported your body as you leaned against the left side of his chest. You reveled in the steady beats of his strong heart and the unfaltering breaths of his lungs. One of his hands found their way into your hair, combing and twisting the locks. There were too many unspoken words, but the silence was a blanket on a winter’s day; neither of you took the cold risk.

A light gasp whistled through your teeth when you felt his lips press firmly—albeit hesitantly—against your hair. His heart rate accelerated. Or was it yours? They moved down to your temple. When you pulled back, he went to your forehead and stopped. _Why did he stop?_ Supposedly, he heard your thinking.

“(Y/N),” The name was a plea on his tongue, and you clutched him harder. “Tell me to stop before I do something I’ll regret.”

“No.” For a long, long minute, the only sounds were your mingled breaths and pounding hearts. Then he shifted, withdrawing until he could see your eyes clearly. The storm brewed in what little sliver of iris remained. Slowly, painstakingly slow, he inched closer. And closer. And before you could utter his name, he swallowed up your words with a gentle kiss.

Your eyelids shut, but you could feel every touch, every caress, every embrace. His skin upon your skin was fire, and it all burned away. The darkness was peaceful after the ashes settled.

The next thing you saw was a red ‘1A’ distinct against the brown paper. Your heart swelled in excitement and thrummed with nerves and ached with concern. _Were you so desperate to serve that you were selfish enough to leave Steve behind?_ The paper abruptly felt heavier. You meandered out of the doors only to be halted by Steve’s stony expression.

“S-Steve? What are you doing here,” you asked, barely finding your voice. Down the steps you walked as if you were approaching an awakened bear. His frame was as small as ever; you’d outgrown him already.

“I was going to enlist.”

“Again?” His eyes dimmed, and you flinched. _Not the right thing to say_. “I’m sorry, Blondie.” He huffed a laugh as you stepped forward until you were a little ways ahead of him.

“No, you have nothing to apologize for.” The shine returned to his irises. “We’re too alike, y’know?” You grinned back.

“Headstrong, stubborn, and way too eager to fight the good fight?”

“Seems about right.” The smile on his face fell. “When do you leave?” Your hand rested on his shoulder, and a sad expression showed on your face.

“Tomorrow night, they said,” you mumbled. You dropped your arm, and he gently shoved your side, prompting the both of you to begin sauntering away.

“No biggie, (Y/N). Just think! You’ll get to slap the jerk for me!” Your laughter mingled together in the air, dwindling into the black sky that loomed out of nowhere.

That was your last pleasantry.

Distantly, you could hear the shifting of clothes. Murmurs were muffled like they were spoken underwater. There weren’t any coherent images this time, merely flashes of light, blurred vision, and pinpricks on your arm. Paralyzed. You were paralyzed—not a single twitch of your fingers or the fluttering of your eyelashes. The only comfort you were offered was the sound of a pen scribbling away, but even that was intermittent. Then there was nothing.

 

Your head rolled to the right. _How long has it been?_ You felt lightheaded. There was only pain, pain, and _pain_ . So you began to drift once more, back into the void. But like a cord snapping straight at its full length, something anchored you back. Something grounded you. Some _one_ held you.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), oh my God.” It was _him_. The man from your dreams. The way he shaped your name with that hoarse voice was undeniable. Your eyelids painfully peeled back and revealed him: the man with the dark eyes and dark hair, stubbled and as hauntingly beautiful as ever. The key, which had alluded you for so many dreams, finally slid home.

“Bucky?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bumping gums: trash talking with no meaning or value of the conversation
> 
> filly: a girl companion
> 
> Honestly, this took way too long, but I do have to admit that I’m pretty happy with how it turned out (even if I wish I could word stuff better argh), and I hope that reflects with you as well :3
> 
> (not so) fun fact: some scenes were loosely based on Bucky’s fandom wiki (MCU), which is super adorable.
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a kudos if you did and feel free to drop some criticism, questions, requests, suggestions, or praise (they’re greatly appreciated)!
> 
> Thank you for reading (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:·ﾟ✧


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